My Hogwarts Journey
by PeliikGrahSol
Summary: In a twist of fate, Emrik Oscrasson, receives the key to his dreams. When an owl bursts into his life leaving behind a innocent piece of yellowed paper. Addressed to him. Enclosed; a Hogwarts' letter...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

* * *

Many adventures begin with a sudden world changing event. For some it happened with thunder and storms, some with the tragic loss of life, some at the direction of someone else, and for others because of their own choosing. For me it was a combination of the two last ones. It happened on a quite normal day in late august, the last day of the month, the 31st, around midday. I did like any other kid did on a sunny and way to warm day; I sat reclined on my computer chair watching YouTube in my room when I heard a sharp series of knocks from my window.

' _What the hell_?' I remembered thinking as I paused the video and slid my earphones off my head. It had sounded as if someone had thrown rocks at my window. I quickly jumped to my feet and hurried over in the hopes of catching whatever or rather whoever dared to throw rocks at my house, what if they cracked the glass?!

Reaching the window I peered outside at any and all angles I could manage to find the culprit, but found nothing. Had I imagined it? I was sure I did not. Curious and to make sure I did not miss anything that was in a dead angle I opened the window and stuck my head out. Now I do not know about you but I was not prepared for what happened next. No sooner had I opened the window wide and stuck my head out when I saw a flicker of movement amongst the trees outside. I barely had time to look a brown feathered owl straight in its yellow eyes before it swooped in over my head, and scared the crap out of me.

I fell backwards in my subsequent attempt to dodge the bird with a yelp. It gave out a squawk as it noisily flapped around the tight space that was my room before it managed to realign and swoop at me again. All I had the time to do was clench my eyes shut and flinch as I brought my arms up to protect my face, I was sure it was going to claw me bloody, but none of it happened. All I felt was something land in my lap sounding very much like paper. The owl made another squawk and then silence. The owl was gone.

Feeling incredibly confused at just what the hell had just happened I peered up over my arms, fearing the bird was just waiting for me to drop my guard so it could get a sneaky claw in. Nothing of its presence was left except for a single feather perched upon the floor mat, and a large envelope made from thick and slightly yellow paper with a big blood red and highly ornate wax seal on it. Dumbfounded I picked up the envelope. Studying the wax seal closer.

The seal depicted an ornate coat of arms depicting a lion, a snake, a badger, and a crow. One animal each occupied their own corner of the shield. To say that I was mystified was understating it a tad bit. I did not know what to think, really, here I was holding a letter that for all the world looked like a Hogwarts letter.

Turning it over to look at the letter's front only hammered it home more. Written in purple ink the words:

 _To Emrik Oscarsson_

 _Little Lake 67, second bedroom on the right_

Well, that was… oddly specific. I scratched my head and stood to my feet. This was one elaborate prank… how did they get an owl to do this, I wondered and closed my window. I sat myself down on my computer chair.

My heart was still not calm from my encounter with the bird.

I turned the letter over, brushing the coarse paper with my thumb; hesitating only a moment before I broke the seal, and pulled out two pages of the same thick paper as the envelope, as I expected to find. A postcard slipped out from the folded letters.

The picture on the postcard was that of the Leaky Cauldron's pub-front. If the golden letters above the bay window was anything to go by. On the backside only two clock numbers was written;

 _12:45pm_

 _10:30am_

Raising a confused brow I dropped the card to my desk and shifted my attention to the letters in my hands and started to read:

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr. Oscarsson,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on the 1st of September._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

'Could this be real?' I asked myself in disbelief. I knew of course it couldn't be, but it did not stop my more playful part to entertain the thought. Even if it was true I spotted the most glaring flaw. It was 2016, Hogwarts did not reopen until the year 2017, and McGonagall was the Headmistress not the deputy. It simply wasn't possible considering those two points, I was also well past my eleventh birthday too… by a good handful of years. It did not however stop me from reading through the second letter, it was a simple list, the one I vaguely remembered from the first book, detailing all the school items I supposedly would need if it were all true.

Tomorrow was the first of September. If this was true then this time tomorrow I would have been sitting on the train towards Hogwarts.

I sighed dreamly, what I wouldn't give to make it all come true.

My eyes idly looked at my computer clock. 12:43. Why was there times written on the postcard? I picked up the unassuming piece of paperboard. Could it be… no it couldn't… could it?

12:44. I looked up at the clock again to notice that I had less than a minute, if I was right. My mind went blank as my heart jumped in my chest. Money, I needed money!

Scrambling to my feet, sending my chair crashing to the floor, I threw myself out of my room and into the hallway. My wallet was in my jacket.

My hands barely fisted a grip on my jacket when the world around me made a loop de loop.

* * *

I felt my breakfast make a break for it as I was pulled haphazardly through what felt like a far too small hole. I felt how my body twisted as my legs were thrown up and over my head. Then to my surprise my feet struck ground. Unprepared for it and still feeling like I was hanging upside down, I fell, no, more like, I was thrown. My butt made painful contact with hard stone.

A moment after I heard whispers around me. Looking around I noticed I was sitting on the sidewalk of a busy street. The pedestrians around me must have seen me as some had stopped to look at me.

"Are you alright, young man?" an elderly lady asked, leaning down.

"Uh," I intellectually began, "yes, yes I'm alright."

The lady's wrinkled face wrinkled even more as she smiled down at me. Her eyes fell down to my hand and her eyes widened.

"Ah, shopping for school, I see." the lady's lips split the wrinkled face into a toothy smile, "A little late, don't you think?"

She gave a chuckle as she ambled past a very confused me, and into, to my slight surprise, the Leaky Cauldron. The pub's front an exact copy of the postcard in my hand. It was only afterwards, after thinking a bit, that I took note of the woman's clothes, it was not your standard run of the mill dress, nope. But a good to honest robe, not a bathrobe robe, but a wizard's robe… or witch's…

I scrambled up onto my feet, dusting off the bit of dirt that had managed to cling to my trousers. I did not notice anything wrong until I picked up my jacket, happy to see it made it through with me. What was wrong? What was wrong was when I noticed how big my jacket had suddenly become. It was easily twice, if not even thrice the size I remember it being.

I noticed my own reflection in the bar window, what I saw made my heart skip a beat. It was me, me from twelve years ago. I could not have looked much more than eleven years old.

What an adventure this would be! I could not help but grin at my own reflection. If this was all a dream, then I hoped I would never wake up and realize my cruel fate.

I threw my jacket on, it was little better than an oversized cloak on my shoulders. And stopping only long enough to make sure my wallet was still with me I nearly skipped my way into the pub.

And as soon the door shut behind me everything went deathly quiet. The few head there were turned to study me. Wrinkled and wizened faces peered from their seats. One really old gnarly and bald man stood behind the beaten bar, cleaning a glass, looking at me with a suspicious glare. Tom, I guessed.

Frozen I stood there and took in the dark and weathered looking bar, only a few candles and gas lamps gave off light, bathing the hall in a gloomy light. Swallowing the lump in my throat and steeling myself I weaved my way through the tables towards the bar.

"I… where do I go, to get to Diagon Alley?" I asked Tom.

The old man stared down at me before grinning a toothless grin down at me.

"That door over there, it leads to the back," he pointed a thick and scarred finger towards a heavy wooden door, just off to the side of the bar table. It was so out of the way it blended with the rest of the room.

"Ah, thanks." I gave the man a nod, but I stopped myself mid step. I how was I supposed to get through the gate… I don't have a wand, nor do I know what bricks to tap…

"Um, excuse me, but," I looked down a bit, it was hard to look the man in the eyes, "can I get help to… you know, the password."

* * *

In no time I stood in the tightly packed alley, its winding, twisting and turning road packed to the brim with wares from the shops, the people and signs.

I said goodbye to the gnarly old barkeep, who just smiled and went back inside. I had been mesmerized when the bricks in the wall shifted and folded into themselves to create the portal between the muggle world from its wizarding kin.

I stood there stunned, just barely taking note how the wall reformed behind me. The stuff in front of me was beyond description, because if I would try I would be here for hours. I saw cauldrons, baskets and buckets of what I could only guess was potion ingredients, flowers, books, clothes. Cages with a myriad of animals, birds and cats mostly. I saw a rustic looking ice cream shop just as the alley bent out of sight.

Hundreds of different trinkets laid splayed on mats, was stacked in shop windows, and out of the corner of my eye I spotted brooms. A neat, sleek and polished shaft of mahogany was displayed inside the shops window.

Where should I start? There was positively an infinite options to choose from. I wanted to see it all, touch and pet the animals, inspect the potion shop, peruse the literary library of books in the bookshop. Sample the food I could see, and ask one and a million questions to the different vendors down the streets about all the gizmos they were selling.

Taking a deep breath I calmed myself down. 'Focus boy!' I had a whole shopping list to get through first… so yeah! The letter…

I felt my spine run cold as I patted my jacket down, trying to find the Hogwarts letter. It was not on me…

'Great, just great!' I cursed as I remembered forgetting to grab the shopping list. But it shouldn't be that hard to remember would it?

But first I needed to exchange money into galleons. So I had to head for Gringotts, wherever that was…

Taking note off the shops I started noting down different shops I believed I had to visit, like Potage's Cauldrons, I knew I needed a cauldron for potions. Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, school robes… including some for winter wear, and Flourish and Blotts. I kept my eyes out for Ollivanders wand shop but only found a second hand shop that had old and worn wands on display… I did not intend to have my first wand be a second-hand, I would simply not stand for it.

Rounding the bend, circling past a street peddlers stand I came to see Gringotts, its huge marble architecture stood out like a sore thumb in the alley, not only being the centre focus in a fork in the road it was also the only… white building in the entire alley so far. Its burnished bronze doors practically shining, was polished into a mirror like state.

Two short guards flanked the door. Goblins; Long pointed ears, squat brows and an equally long and almost sharp looking noses, stood out like the sun. They wore thick cloaks over their clothes, suits that would have made its home back in the late nineteenth century. On their heads they wore broad brimmed hats. They were quite the curious sight, and I could not help but stare as I ascended the stairs up to the Gringotts bank.

The guard I looked at glared back with sharp and beady eyes, and sneered as the Goblin pulled the brim of his hat down a bit, adjusting it so the sun did not get onto his face as much.

One of the guards snapped his fingers and the door opened for me. Revealing a set of silver doors inside, polished to the same gleam as the outer doors. Engraved a message I was expecting:

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed_

 _To those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in return._

 _So if you seek beneath of floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

It gave me shivers as I knew just what awaited those brave, or foolish enough to try. Goblins were anything but friendly when you offended them.

I pushed the doors open, they closed quietly behind me.

Inside was what I expected of an ancient bank. A vast marble hall, counters stretching the entire length of the room. Hundreds of gnarly, fair skinned, goblins manning them. Despite thinking the bank saw little traffic during the normal days I was wrong. The floor was almost covered in robed and suited witches and wizards. There was no rhyme or reason to the chaos as I saw the mages run to and fro, some standing in long twisting lines to get to the tellers, while others just sipped up to empty ones and some going completely ignored.

Goblins counted massive piles of coins, others inspected items from wands to fridges, others sat in silent boredom while others looked two steps from a heart attack by the frantic traffic of wizards.

The room was drowning in a cacophony of voices, from small talks about the weather, to business ventures, to politics.

I stood there taking it all in for a while, a bit overwhelmed at the sight.

Shaking my head, I made a beeline for the closest empty stall and asked with trepidation and a lot of nervousness, at who I had to talk to to exchange muggle coinage. While the bored looking goblin looked up with anticipation, he pointed a long pointy finger down the rows and spoke in a snivelled voice,

"Down the row, four stalls, behind the pillar."

I thanked the goblin and left to press myself through the throng of people, getting bumped back and forth and even got an angry shout after me as I cut past one of the waiting lines until I managed to tackle my way to the small voided stall.

The goblin behind the counter studied a set of muggle bills, euro's I think they were. The goblin had a crown of greying hair, framing an shiny bald top. It's nose splayed and almost curling back towards his forehead. A thin mouth hiding a row of sharp thin teeth. I was unsure if brown and grey was normal teeth colour for the goblins.

The teller set down his object of interest to look down at me from his elevated position.

"Yes?" came the short and nasal inquiry.

Unsure of what to say I emptied my wallet onto the counter. I saw the Goblins eyes light up in enthused interest as it spied the no small amount of cash I had dumped before him.

"Swedish Crowns," the goblin slowly breathed. Its small squint eyes locked onto me. The Goblin swept his eyes over me before he again asked: "Well?"

"I'm here to exchange everything into wizarding coin."

At my words the Goblins thin mouth twisted into a horrible mockery of a toothy smile, as his predatory eyes looked to have sharpened. It used one of its kinds long, almost claw like fingers, and sifted through my money.

"Hn, three-thousand, five-hundred, and eighty-seven crowns…" It looked up at me as if asking for confirmation. The goblin swept the entire pile off, behind the counter, and into a drawer with a magic hand wave. He picked out from another drawer a sizable knobbly poach that clinked enticingly as it was set onto the counter. "Sixty-four galleons, four sickles and eight knuts. Is that all?"

I took the bag and nodded.

"The door is that way." The Goblin said dismissively and pointed back out towards the entrance doors. I could not help but chuckle at the pure rudeness and gall of the creature. No wonder why Wizards did not like goblins much.

I went to walk away but was brought to a halt. Galleons were made of gold weren't they…? I had read theories about it being worth more than what you had to pay for them. I could not help but ask the teller how they tackled that.

I turned around and asked: "Um, what stops me from going back out to the muggles and exchanging this," I jingled the bag, "for more money?"

The Goblin looked up from one of my, now his, five hundred bills. That goblin likes his muggle cash.

"You could try," the goblin sneered, his face twisted into a confident mockery of a grin. His tone spoke all. You should never try and swindle a goblin, noted.

I quickly stuffed the heavy poach into my oversized jacket, afraid that the goblin might just take it back, and pushed my way out into clear and less stuffy air outside the bank.

* * *

It took me close to twenty minutes to find Ollivander's wand shop. For being one of the best wand makers the shop was awfully deftly hidden, stuffed behind a corner of a dead end, the name "Ollivander's" marked in swirling golden letters above the inset door. I had to ask a wizard who confusedly pointed me in the right direction, he sounded almost as if he was trying to figure out if I was playing him for a joke or not… at least until he looked at my clothes more closely.

I strode inside, a small doorbell jingled as I entered. The store was… larger than the outside would have suggested, the room had just a small greeting spot at the front, a small spindly chair sat in an empty corner by the shops window. Rows upon rows of shelves, stacked to the roof with thin but long boxes of all shapes, colour, and sizes, occupied the rest of the room, only leaving enough space for a small door leading into the back of the shop, probably where the old wand maker lived or made his wands… maybe both, who knew?

The small door creaked open for a frazzled haired old man, pointed chin and squinting eyes, with a small set of reading glasses riding low on his nose, to step through.

"Ah, welcome, welcome," the man I could only assume to be Ollivaner himself spoke softly. "A new wand, for a new Hogwarts student I presume?"

"Yes," I said, but caught myself from being rude and added, "sir."

"A bit on the last second too, hmm?"

I could only nod to the man.

"Wand arm," the man immediately asked and produced as expected a measuring tape. I extended my right arm, which got ceased and measured from, curiously all fingers, my underarm, upper arm, and even the width of my hand. And with a whispered "I see," from Ollivander he flitted away down one of the aisles. The tape continued on its own, as it fluttered around, measuring the circumference of my hand, and each finger, for each joint too.

Ollivander pulled out boxes, replaced some before even opening them, but most was inspected thoroughly before being put back.

The tape had seeming become bored with measuring my hand and snaked its way around my waist, and chest before slithering down to measure my legs.

"Try this one," the old wand maker said suddenly beside me and thrust a wand into my still extended hand, "fir, and Kneazle whisker, eight inches."

It was a thick and squat looking wand, smooth and tapered towards the tip. I looked at it for a mere second, waiting for something to happen when it got ripped out of my hand by Ollivander who mumbled something dismissively.

I kicked at the measuring tape when it tried to wander up my trousers; it learned quickly and stopped and settled on snaking its ways around my ankles instead.

"Maybe this one then," I got a dark looking wand, longer and with a bit more knobbly branch rings. It was taken away before I even got to take a closer look.

Before I could even blink yet another wand was set in my hand. But this time it was different. From the moment the wand got placed in my fingers I could feel how it had judged me, and found my ownership acceptable. It was almost a warm feeling spreading at the touch, its smooth and polished wood burrowing into the palm of my hand. This wand had a round ended, straight-backed and an almost pear-shaped handle, it curved into a hooked finger guard. The wand's shaft as thick as his finger but tapered towards a fine rounded point.

"Cedar wood, and a core of dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches," Ollivander spoke softly, reverently. "A wand of character, you'd do well to care for it. That will be seven galleons."

I studied the polished wand, it almost shined in the poor light of the shop. So, this was a wand… I could understand why so many considered them semi-sentient. So I decided to ask a few questions of off the wand maker about caring for wands.

* * *

After exchanging a few more words, I left the shop seven galleons lighter. That left me with fifty seven galleons and a handful of sickles and knuts. Ollivander had been a bit surprised when I asked about caring for the wand, at least he looked surprised. It was not that difficult, just had to rub it with oil and wax it now and again to avoid splinters and unnecessary damages. The oil to keep it moist and flexible, the wax to help keep smooth and, protected from wear and tear.

Now my wand rested safe and secure in one of my jacket's inside pockets.

Next on my list was school books, so I backtracked my way towards Flourish and Blotts book store.

It was a squat little not much larger than Ollivander's wand shop. Every available place stacked high with books, in a dishevelled chaos. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the organisation of books as titles like, Margarhet's cooking, lied on top of a pile of very old dusty tomes reading: Harrington's adventure's book one, two, five, and sixteen. Only a small thin walkway was cleared for customers to brush their way past. A broad counter table sat stuffed in front, almost between, two overflowing bookcases.

An old dark robed wizard in a broad brimmed, and pointy, hat sat with a cup of steaming… something in his hands, behind the counter.

He looked up, surprise playing on his face as I entered.

"Are you not a bit young to be wandering about alone, day before school start?" He asked.

"Nope, I'm here to get the Hogwarts school books."

The older man sighed, and gestured to the shelves

"You can find them around, just put the books back in their place please." He sounded nearly defeated as he said it.

"Um… I lost my book list, I was hoping you could help me." I winched as I said it, the shopkeeper sent me a death glare.

The shopkeeper rose to his feet grumbling none too happily to have to spend the energy.

* * *

Thirteen galleons less and, I now had my arms full of heavy tomes. And damn they were heavy. It did not help they were in the way of my face, obscuring my sight.

That reminded me, I'd need a school trunk, and I knew I would be needing, not only for my books but, the cauldron, papers and pen, ink too. School robes and other wizardry clothes, a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans did not fit in with wizarding kind.

I had to part with another five galleon, and fourteen sickles, for a plain Hogwarts standard trunk.

Now I had only thirty-four galleons, seven sickles and eight as of yet untouched knuts. The only things I saw costing knuts were free weight items, like potion ingredients and certain foods… I could only guess what they really were used for. For all I knew those writhing bug likes things and stuff was candy.

Books, wand, and a trunk to stuff it all in. that was just the surface of what I needed, and I weren't even sure I knew or remembered everything I needed to buy. Looking up at a clock, in a clock shops window, tracking down the one machine who's hands coincided with most of the rest, I still had an hour or so left until four o'clock.

Robes was probably a good start, I don't know how long it took to fit robes, even less so an entire wardrobe and protective gloves. Shoes would also be something to invest in… I only hoped I had the coin left for the cauldron, and whatever other potion equipment I could manage to dredge from memory.

The answer to how long it took to fit robes? Almost none at all; It all took twenty minutes on the spot for the experienced manager and her assistant to measure, charm and transfigure my new robes. I had now as large a wardrobe my trunk allowed… which was more than the first glance would have you believe. I had a pair of fancy looking dragon-hide gloves, riding far up the arms to boot. Three pairs of working robes, Hogwarts black. Winter cloak with silver fastenings. A nice scarf for cold windy weather. Three brimless and pointy hats. Beside the grey and orange runners I wore I now had some sturdy boots for winter and outdoor work, a pair of office looking shoes and seven different socks with a lot of curious patterns and prints on them.

Beside that I also had a few more casual under robes, shirts and pants. Two woollen vests got thrown in there too for the coming colder weather.

It stung to hand over most of my remaining money.

I now had only fourteen galleons to my name. I really hoped the school standard potion stuffs did not break my economy…

* * *

I eventually found myself sitting in the leaky cauldron, dinner eaten and now simply waiting for the last few hours to pass before bed. There I sat, spinning my last golden goblin coin. My cheek resting against the worn table, a slight hint of spilt beer could be smelt. The table was clean, but it was obvious the smell sat in the wood and not on it. Wonders of scouring charms.

My feet hurt, my legs ached and my arms felt like lead after conking around on my damn trunk all day, an object that had grown all the more heavy as the last few hours of light waned. I did not even have the time to taste that ice cream I had set my eyes on earlier. Not that I had the will for it as my funds all but vanished before my eyes, putting me in a right mood that made it hard to summon any more enthusiasm.

Beside the pewter cauldron, a set of brass scales, and a few phials. At the last second by chance I remembered to by a telescope. Caught myself on my way towards the Leaky Cauldron, and as I passed the astronomy shop's window, and saw one of the telescopes it hit me like a rock that I had forgotten about them.

But afterwards I was sure I had gotten everything I needed... it would be embarrassing to arrive at Hogwarts missing the materials needed. I don't know how I managed to get the acceptance letter, much less understand why, and it would not stand to insult whoever did this by squandering the opportunity, and underperform.

I tore my eyes from the gleaming coin and peered through the dim light of the pub.

Nine-thirty said the old clock on the wall. I retrieved the small post card and read it.

 _12:45PM_

 _10:30AM_

Less than thirteen hours left… then it was off to Hogwarts.

I could not help the small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Some dreams did seem to come true after all… unless I would wake up tomorrow back home, in my own bed as if nothing had happened at all…

And there went my smile. I did not like the idea that my dream would end up just as a cosmic joke.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I woke up the next morning after a night of fitful sleep. The bed was partly the cause, but also the giddy anticipation. If I was right I was going to be sitting on the Hogwarts Express in but a few hours.

A quick look at the clock told me I still had an hour left before my portkey would whisk me away. I slid of my bed and stretched my limbs; a yawn drew deep in my throat. I went over the content of my trunk, counting the books, the potion equipment, the bronze looking telescope, and my new clothes. I could not help to but pick up my new school robe.

It was made from cotton, cheap but durable, it was very soft. I fastened it around my shoulders. Swinging around I studied my reflection in an old dusty mirror hanging on the wall. I struck an intimidating sight, the robe making me look broad. An image tarnished by my bare skin peeking out through the gap in the front, my polka dotted boxers, and, not to speak of, my new found height made what little impression I made mute.

I threw on some trousers, and crawled into a day to day robe, sparing my shirt for later. It was a dark green robe. The difference between the Hogwarts robe and this one was in design. The Hogwarts robes were meant for work and to protect the wearer's clothes from stains and scrapes and was fit to put on over anything. While this day to day robe was more like a sweater. It reached all the way down to the floor, bunching up a bit around my feet. That it would drag on the ground and get dirty did not worry me, much. I had seen enough wizards spell the dirt away from their shoes and robes when they stepped into shops. Problem was the 'underage usage of magic' law. I had to wait until I got to Hogwarts before I could even entertain the thought of using magic.

Not to claim that I even could even if I tried. Though Hermione could repair Harry's glasses on the train, though, she had had the entire summer to read her books from cover to cover. Which reminded me, I should probably read one myself. At least peruse one or two a bit.

Picking up the book I considered a good starting point I descended down into the leaky cauldron's main room. The rickety staircase creaking loudly as I made my way down with the blueish cover of Magical Theory in hand. I was going to read it while eating a hearty breakfast.

The old wrinkly bartender, Tom, gave me a toothless smile and waved a lazy good morning in my direction. I shouted an order for a serving of buttered toast and honeyed porridge and I plopped myself down at one of the window tables. I put the book down, gingerly fingering the cover before I opened it.

Big bold cursive letters proclaimed the books title followed by a much more humble 'by Adalbert Waffle'.

Turning the page presented the book index. And without surprise, it started with an author's foreword. I skimmed over the sparse paragraph that warned that the book contained theoretical knowledge. That the art of magic, and its understanding, was individual and as precise as predicting the weather, hard to do and with fleeting results. That the book aimed to teach these theories, and help the reader understand magic in all its forms.

Nothing that I had not already guessed. I turned the page, and started to read the introduction.

A few minutes after, Tom placed my food down on an empty spot beside me.

"Already at it I see," the old man chuckled, "could not wait until school start, eh?"

I smiled at the levity in his voice and grunted a "yup".

"Well, don't let me distract you anymore have a nice meal."

I shook my head in an exaggerated attempt to clear my head of distractions and returned to read. Absentmindedly eating between paragraphs.

After reading through the first chapter I could only conclude one thing. Magic was magic. It was as boundless as it was limited. The only thing I could say I got from reading the chapter was that magic was not something you should do willy-nilly and without forethought. For it was first and foremost your own will and soul that set the limit of what you could do. But it also warned to not dabble in what you did not understand… which was a contradiction. Cause the very first line was:

"Magic is as obvious as it is enigmatic. The more you try to understand it the weaker your grasp of it is."

Which implied that mastery could never be achieved… It was a bit of a head twister for sure.

Glancing up at the clock it showed it was just short to half past ten now. Scrounging up a sickle to pay for the meal I hurried my way up to my room quickly packing the book into the trunk. I threw on a shirt underneath my robe. I made sure to take a firm grip on the trunk as I fished out the postcard with the other hand.

My heart beat rapidly as the clock ticked to half past. I took a deep breath awaiting the gut wrenching feeling of portkey travel. Preparing to not stumble and fall like I did yesterday.

That never came…

Had I been wrong? I looked at the clock, it was half past ten. And I watched it tick over to twenty nine to eleven. Then it dawned on me. Maybe I was supposed to make it to King's Cross train station by myself… but why was the portkey stamped with another ambiguous number. By logic I could only interpret it to mean it would activate again… but it did not.

Then out of nowhere I felt something hook my innards around my navel. It was all the warning I had before the whole world around me twisted out of view. I instantly regretted eating breakfast earlier as I struggled against the nausea. Then quicker than I expected the world manifested and came to a jarring halt. Unprepared and completely unbalanced I was flung to the ground. It was felt as if someone had shoulder thrown me to the ground.

The world spun around me for a few more moments as I tried desperately to figure out up from down.

I took two deep breaths, before sitting up. I quick scan confirmed that I was on the nine and three quarters platform. Many hundreds of voices and screeching birds mingled into a general hubbub. Robes and a myriad of suits, dresses and more casual clothes just made the scene into what I always imagined how the platform would look and feel.

The large red engine of the Hogwarts' express was spewing clear white smoke. A great clock hanged over the platform telling the crowd the time. I still had more than enough time.

With trepidation I stood to my feet and proceeded to weave my way through the tightly packed platform, passing parents and children saying their lasts goodbyes. A few hugs there a firm handshake there. I even saw a young girl get firmly kissed on the cheek, much to her apparent objections. Lacking parents of my own I could freely jump onto the train.

It took me only a moment to find an empty compartment it seemed most students had yet to climb on board.

After a light struggle I managed to shove my way to heavy trunk up onto the baggage netting above the seats. Sighing I let the knot of excitement in the pit of my stomach stew a bit. Letting the fact that I was on the Hogwarts' Express fully set in.

I was on the Hogwarts' Express! I leaned onto the window sill, staring out over the crowd of actual witches and wizards. Heck I was one now! Diagonally had been a fun expedition, now this, this was a full on adventure.

Then my eyes caught something. Out of the solid side of the ticket booth at the back of the platform came a pair of tall redheads, identical redheads. With a startling shock I froze where I stood. For the two was no other than Fred and George Weasley. But their presence could only mean one thing… I was not in twenty-seventeen anymore.

Not only had I been transfigured into an eleven year old, I had also been sent back in time to boot!

Staring transfixed at the booth I was awarded with another sight and someone I could only assume to be harry potter. The movies did not make his unruly and almost bushy hair, in my mother's words it looked like a rat's nest. He looked skinny and small in his overly baggy clothes and made him look particularly thin. He was pushing a trolley on which a golden cage sat with the snowy owl Hedwig perched inside.

Rumpled by the revelation I sank down onto the seats. I was yet to be even born…

If I was right it was nineteen-ninety-one, three whole years before my own birth.

The question popping up into my mind was 'Why?'

Was there a reason that I was transported not just to London but all the way back to ninety-one? And that would also meant the whole Voldemort business was still going on. Luckily enough the first year would not have much danger in it. At least it would not have a big petrifying snake slithering around. When I thought about it the third year would be a breeze compared to the chamber of secret business.

After a while a whistle blew and I could hear the conductor make the last call for departure. The platform had been slowly emptied but now there was a sudden rush for the procrastinating students as everyone tried to get on the train. I could only shake my head, who in their right mind would ever risk missing the train to Hogwarts of all things. If my parents where here they would had to struggle to keep me for even a minute.

From my spot I saw a very notable lanky tall and freckled redhead scramble on board just in time. The train had already started to pick up speed when he finally managed to drag his weathered trunk on board.

I could not help a malicious chuckle at the struggle.

Soon the train was out of the platform and was truly picking up speed, and what I could only fondly remember to be the British suburban started to pass outside the window.

A timid knock brought my attention away from the window and to the compartment door. It opened to reveal a round-faced boy, a fat warty toad clasped to his chest as if he was afraid of losing it. With a slight shock I knew who it he was.

"Come in, come in and take a seat," I boldly told Neville Longbottom before he worked up the courage to ask. His shy expression flushed at how easily I had read his intent.

"Thank you," he said. He struggled to get his trunk through the door one handed. It took him a moment before he got it in, far too stubborn or afraid to put his frog Trevor down. I did however help him lift his luggage up into the luggage compartment. By the time it was done Neville was red in the face from the exertion. "Sorry for bothering you."

"I do not mind." I said and offered a handshake, "Emrik Oscarsson by the way."

"N, Neville Longbottom," Neville stuttered briefly but recovered superbly. It was interesting seeing him this timid and shy knowing what awaited him in the future.

"Good to meet you."

"You too."

I sat back down. It was then I noticed Trevor was not in Neville's hand anymore. And the compartment door was still open… I searched the compartment with a quick glance and failed to spot the small wort skinned amphibian.

"Where's Trevor?" I questioned. Maybe if Neville caught the toad before it managed to get too far away there would not be such a search after it. At least it might spare Neville the pains.

"Oh, no," he exclaimed. "Not again!"

Ran for the door, his head looking this way and that way.

"Nan is going to kill me!" and he was gone. Far too worried about finding his wayward toad.

I contemplated helping him out but thought better of it. He would never learn anything if people helped him all the time. I idly wondered if I was changing things, now that I was here and had interacted with Neville would it change how he met Harry and Ron?

It only took Neville a minute before he came back with his toad in hand. Now I really wondered if I had changed things…

"Thanks, never noticed he had run off!" Neville grinned happy to have caught the amphibian before it had the time to take distance. "Caught him trying to make it to another cart."

Neville sat down, and placed the toad down beside him, completely oblivious at how it was already making leaps for the door. I shifted and nudged the door closed before Trevor managed to make it out. I think I have never seen a toad look so sad just sitting there staring at the door. That was what I imagined the toad was as it sat there.

I hummed agreeably.

"Is this your first year, at Hogwarts I mean?" Neville asked fiddling with his fingers.

"First year, got my letter the last minute."

"Oh, m-must have been scary, not being accepted…" He trailed off unsure.

"Oh no, I did not even think I-" I halted in my words before I revealed a bit too much. "It came as a big surprise. I am muggleborn, haven't even preformed any accidental magic at all!"

Neville's face went slack, dumbfounded even at my revelation. I knew about his struggle and ridicule he'd suffered before he through need performed his first ever trace of magic. It must have been a fear he had, that his magic was not enough to be accepted, and now here I was claiming to have less potential than him and I did get accepted. Something I really wanted to know how… though I guess, if I should follow what the Magical Theory told me it was 'magic'. To understand it is to know nothing.

I was still trying to wrap my head around the concept that the less I knew the more I could do. How I was supposed to do that and still learn and understand spells was beyond me… Maybe that was the key…

I scattered my thought.

"Y-you do not look like a muggleborn to me," Neville said eyeing my green robe. Compared to me he was the one looking like a muggle. Which drew a smile from my lips.

"Watching and learning," I spoke it like a mantra, which it technically was.

Neville furrowed his brow. "What?"

"I observed, and watched wizards and witches while I went shopping in Diagonally, and I learned from what I observed."

"Oh, I see," Neville said. I suspected he did not really understand what I meant. Maybe that was his problem… he did not truly pay attention to his surroundings. It would explain why Trevor got away from him so easily all the time. Why he always seemed to forget things in general.

A few minutes dragged on in awkward silence as I settled to look out at the passing view. Neville shifted around, not fixing his eyes to anything. But he managed to gather enough courage, or maybe the words, to ask.

"Do you know what house you will be in? I hope I get into Gryffindor my whole family has been Gryffindor you know." Neville hurriedly said.

"No, though," I pondered the thought about it. What house would I be in? Pottermore had placed me in Slytherin, and I really liked Slytherin, from its colours and emblem to their traits. But joining them would mean a lot of trouble down the line, and dealing with Draco. Gryffindor did not appeal to me, except for getting closer to Harry Potter and his gang. Hufflepuffs had their merits but not a place I actually wanted to go, and Ravenclaw was outright cruel and cold towards any who did not conform. So the choice was obvious to me, but how would Neville react? I did not know how he would react, but since he was a Longbottom it stood to reason he would be predisposed to not like Slytherin house. So I shook my head, "no, I do not know, but I think the sorting will place me in the right house in the end."

"Yeah." Neville said.

"Do you know anything about Hogwarts?" I asked before we fell back into silence. I was trying hard to maintain a good impression on the boy. And making him comfortable with me before house politics could create an unbridgeable gap in our relationship would help me get an in inside Gryffindor.

Neville couldn't tell me anything new about Hogwarts, I actually knew more about it than him it appeared after a few minutes, but I smiled and egged him on with a question here and there when he managed to trail off or became unsure. It was fascinating watching the excitement roll off of him, an excitement I shared though for slightly different reasons. He told me of the Great Hall, the maze like stairs and the talking paintings. Of myths told by his uncles, aunts and grandmother. His stories of course were limited in details thanks to being second hand knowledge but it was nice nonetheless.

The Honeyduke Express trolley lady came and went shortly afterwards. Neville bought a humble selection of magical candy, a couple of chocolate frogs and a cauldron cake. I did have the sickles to pay for some but I choose not to. They were the last of my money, though I do not know what use they would be to me. It's not like I had anymore waiting for me. And I did not know how long I would be here. Maybe it was only for this first year, a sick joke it would be if so.

With little else to talk about we fell into companionable silence. I brought out my potions book, if I had to waste time I would do it reading up on potions. If Snape was anything like the books and movies depicted I'd want his favour, what limited fashion I could get at least, from reading up on his subject. Beforehand.

The first few chapters detailed the importance of correct heating and ladle techniques. It was important because some ingredients reacted differently in different heating as well as the mixing of them. The ladle techniques was there to help mix the ingredients correctly. An example was given for the sleeping draught, where you left the mixture to simper until the last minute where you slowly stirred the potion clockwise in how many hours you wanted it to last. If you are too hasty it would last only minutes not hours, to slow and… well it might not mix at all or last so long you would never wake up…

This was taught to first years…

Leaving the thought of the dangers involved behind I read on to why literary just waving your wand above the potion was an important step, or steps depending on the potion. To what I understood you would make mud otherwise. It was described as sprinkling magic on top the potion made the potion magical. Of course, again some ingredients did not need the wand waving because of the highly magical nature of them.

I quirked an eyebrow at the term "standard" ingredient. It was a glorified tea blend, or flour. It was there for taste and body for the potion, to thicken it or to dilute. I could literary use grass from the yard if I wanted to. Tough some potions needed a certain consistency to mix properly. So I guessed there were different types of pre-packaged mixes for this. I scrunched my nose at the idea. I'd rather make my own if I had to... I wonder what flour would do. An Idea to ask Severus about...

I couldn't help snorting at the image of a disgusted looking Snape staring down at me when I would ask him.

[hr]

Night fell outside the windows, and I think I fell asleep somewhere along the line because the next time I was aware I was shaken awake by Neville.

"We are slowing down, I think we are getting close now." He said as he sat back down. An excited grin was sporting on his face. Hogwarts was close, really close now. I could not help my own grin. But all that was outside was black trees illuminated by the moon. Splotchy grey clouds drifting in the heavens. Many thousands of stars were twinkling, far more than I was used to seeing. Rarely did I travel so far from civilization to get such a view.

Listening for the train, I could hear that it has slowed down, and I believed I saw the trees pass by not as fast as it had done earlier that day.

Within minutes I could clearly notice how the train was slowing down, not just see it.

"Better put on our school robes," I said and reached for my trunk. It took a bit of work not to have it fall down. It weighted a ton! My school robes were folded on top of the rest of my stuff, and with reverence I picked the black cloth up. My heart was hammering in my chest with excitement.

 _So close_ …

I put it on, my green robes fitting perfectly into its wise arms. It was meant to fit over clothes and, now I understood, robes too.

With a screech the train came to a halt, soft glowing light illuminated the platform outside and gave it a mysterious feel. I could hear dozens of compartment doors slam open and commotion began. Everyone, from small first years to big seventh years had this excited air among them as they hurried to get off the train. The first years, some more confused and lost than others was bumped around and herded outside by the flow of students.

I quietly followed Neville outside into the cool September air. I took a breath of it and enjoyed the coolness of it. It helped me to stay calm against the chaos and noise as well as my own swirling emotions. Trying my best to observe and take in the scene in front of me.

"Scouse me," an older boy said and pushed past me and the flow of students continued out beside me. I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment, I had been blocking the doorway.

"'Firs' years over 'ere, firs' years over 'ere!" A familiar gruff voice shouted above the clamour. Hagrid, the half-giant of a man towered above everyone, his lantern held high. Small beady eyes glinted in the soft light through scraggly bushy hair and beard. I quickly ducked between the skirts of two older girls, making the one behind the other stumble but laugh. I smelled a faint trace of lavender, perfume.

I quickly attached myself to the group of first years. More than a few staring wide eyed at the giant of a man waving his big lantern this way and that to gain attention.

"Is tha' all of yeh? Follow me then!"

And like chicks after the mother duck, we followed Hagrid down a narrow path, past brambles and needled branches, to a small beach lined with wooden boats. Big enough for three each. The whole way I had tried to spy Hogwarts castle through the trees, but to no avail. The small harbour only gave a broken view of forest and a grassy field. Though I could see, framed against the starry sky the towers of the Quidditch pitch on the far side of the black lake. A detail I would not have seen against the dark shape of the Forbidden Forest if I had not known to look for it.

Hagrid instructed for three students for each boat. I tried to spot Neville in the crowd, but the darkness and ever shifting nature of a gaggle of children made the task near impossible. I had hoped to stop him taking a dip in the lake, but it seemed not to be. Then again assuming he would now.

I did however spot Ron Weasley. The kid stood head and shoulder above most others, or he would if he stopped slouching. But he still stood as the tallest first year. Next to him I spotted none else than Harry Potter himself. I only managed to see a very unruly tuft of hair and a glint of his glasses before he and Ron climbed into a boat with another boy. I failed to remember his name, and house in general.

Shrugging off the knee-jerk reaction to present myself to the Boy-who-lived, something I knew he was not too enthused about to begin with, and would quickly grow to dislike over the years. I would let him settle for a day or two, or until I ran into him between classes. Though I suspected I wanted to meet and shake his hand for a lot of other reasons than others.

Seeing my chance I climbed on board one of the last remaining boats. While I had been mussed in my own thoughts the rest of the students had quickly clambered into their own. Two other children, girls, or witches. One black haired, and the other brown, golden brown if my eyes were not tricked by the lantern in Hagrid's hands.

I smiled and waved at them as they both went quiet. They had been whispering to each other but now they acted as if they hadn't.

"Hello, name's Emrik," I introduced myself, extending my hand to shake. I got a funny look from the two and they eyed me up and down, but they shook my hand.

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Daphne Greengrass." They introduced themselves. So this was Pansy. I looked the girl over. Her hair was short shoulder length, brown and fuzzy. Skin a slightly darker tone, tanned. Nose small if slightly upturned. Otherwise quite soft rounded face. Under the school robe I saw a white shirt, and a grey skirt. She wore knee high socks, and a pair of dainty looking shoes.

Daphne in contrast looked plain. High cheeks and near black straight and long hair. She wore a thin brown sweater together with a pair of jeans trousers. The contrast between the two was however mostly skin deep as they both acted similar enough to make me believe they shared a common background. Pansy being, at least later on, a staunch supporter of the Death Eater agenda, spurred on by her parents apparent involvement. Little was actually known about the Greengrasses, but by how Daphne had been shown to follow Pansy, or at least be in the same clique as her. Spending more than some effort to collectively harass Potter.

There was little time to say more as Hagrid drew his comically small umbrella and tapped his own boat which he himself had all to himself.

"Off we go 'en," he boomed so we all could hear.

With a mighty tug the beached boats started to move, as if led by an invisible rope. I marvelled at how smoothly, and eerily quiet the boats moved through the water, only the slight sound of rippling water from the wake was what they made. Many of the students murmured in awe and amazement. Daphne and Pansy however was not too impressed. Privileged magicals, at least make a show of being impressed. While they were brought up with magic in many different forms I was certain they had never ridden a self-moving boat before!

Within moments for many, the long awaited sight of Hogwarts Castle came into view as we passed around the cape and onto the lake proper. Its silhouette a stark contrast against the clear sky. Hundreds of lit windows, and the overall massive building inspired awe.

Within moments we crossed the large lake and soon we passed into the castles massive shadow, making it hard to see far. The warm golden glow from the windows reflected of the water in blotchy spots until we passed under a huge archway, where our boats sidled up to a small dock, barely enough room for them all.

I noted that no one had fallen into the lake as I stepped onto land. I was sure Neville should have… or was it someone else. Eh, it did not matter in the end.

Standing atop a winding stairway stood a green robed witch, a wide brimmed pointy hat sat upon her head, the tip fashionable crooked. It could have been none other than McGonagall. Her entire posture commanded respect. Her chin slightly raised as she stared down at us.

"This way children, follow me."

McGonagall turned with a flick of her robes and strode through the doorway at the top of the stairs, her head held high. The light from within too inviting and all of the first years followed her.

I hesitated at the bottom. I couldn't believe it. I was finally at Hogwarts, this was the beginning of an adventure for many years to come.


End file.
